body--as she beheld the tall figure of
the chauffeur, motionless as arrested
mechanism, upon the trail, ahead.

"I heerd a--skirl." Andrew's face was
stony as that of the Old Man of Greylock
-a featured rock--as he turned
it upon the breathless girls.

"A skirl! A cry!" he repeated hoarsely.
"'T was na the yap of an animal, either!
Somebody--somebody 's yawping for help@
out here in this awfu' spot! Dinna ye hear@
it, children?"

They did. Their flesh began to creep.

Up, upward, struggling between great
rocks, it climbed, that cry, where the
stony teeth of the Man Killer bit the trail
right in two.

"Help--h-help!" it pleaded. "Oh--help!"
Then feebly, but fierily: "Oh-h!
confound it--help, I say!"

That was the moment when Pemrose
Lorry shook as if the old Man Killer were
devouring her.

Was there--could there be something
[[260]]

p259 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p260w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p261

v?